Chapter 9

They never found Moriarty, and no one was really sure how he disappeared so quickly. And though Westminster Palace was turned upside-down, a bomb was never found. So either he hid it exceptionally well, it was removed when he left, or (and this was the option most people believed) Moriarty was bluffing. Either way, no one in Parliament was really happy about it. As far as Lestrade was concerned, this was case closed. Monk, however, felt he had some unfinished business.

"I don't see anything wrong," John told him as he looked down Monk's throat.

"Are you sure? I still feel hoarse and feverish."

"Oh, come on," Sherlock scoffed. "You conveniently forgot you were ill when we got out of the storage locker."

"Please, Sherlock, I told you I wanted a second opinion."

"You don't feel feverish either," John said.

"Are there any test you can run?"

"Well, all my equipment's at the hospital. Look, I don't think we've had a case of the Plague in . . . centuries."

"Well, you know, just to be sure."

Once Natalie got a chance, she whispered to John, "Now, imagine this 24/7. Still wanna trade?"

"No, you can have him," he answered.

Also, to everyone's surprise, Monk requested that they hold a small press conference. Scotland Yard did have one planned, but Monk explained that he had some things he wanted to say. Mycroft asked to lead it specifically so he could thank the people who saved his life. The press conference began with him describing exactly what happened in Parliament that day and how they all foiled it.

"Of those involved, we want to extend a special thanks to our American visitors, the highly esteemed private detective of San Francisco, California Adrian Monk and his assistant Natalie Teeger. At this time, we would like to present them with a special honor." The reporters in attendance applauded as Mycroft pinned to Monk's jacket a small medal. He gave Monk a small bow. Then he pinned another medal on Natalie's blouse, gave her a small bow, and shook her hand. Then he retook the podium and said, "It is my understanding that Mr. Monk would now like to say a few words." But there was no movement. "Adrian Monk?"

"Hang on, just a moment," Monk replied. "Just making sure this is straight." Natalie helped him, and he took the podium. Then he straightened the microphone. Then he noticed a smudge on the lectern (Lestrade wiped it down). "Sorry. I hope you'll forgive me if I read my speech. I do have it memorized, but you look down, I might forget there's a small herd that could trample me to death." The reporters laughed very uncomfortably.

"I would like to thank you for this honor. It's my understanding that the British don't usually hand out accolades, especially to non-Brits. Of course, I could be wrong. At any rate, I will treasure this. However, I would be remiss if I did not mention those who helped me. I could not have found Molly Hooper and Molly Evans had it not been for your detective Sherlock Holmes and his assistant Dr. John Watson. I have never met a more genuine detective. Not saying others aren't out there, but I haven't met them.

"American short story writer William Sydney Porter, better known as O. Henry, once said, 'True adventurers have never been plentiful. The true adventurer goes forth aimless and uncalculating to meet and greet unknown fate.' I believe under these qualifications that Porter would agree with me that Sherlock Holmes is a true adventurer. Not only that, Sherlock has reminded me what true adventure is. True adventure is seeking for games and puzzles where it seems none exist. True adventure is living for the chase, pursuing it relentlessly, and letting it be its on reward. Most of all, true adventure is dangerous, and unless one has enough ingenuity it will end in certain death. That's why I usually avoid true adventure, but I can still admire Holmes. I hope this strategy will continue to lead him to success. London is fortunate to have Sherlock Holmes, and I hope he will continue to solve cases for many years to come. Thank you."

The audience applauded as he stepped back. Mycroft took the microphone again. "Do you have a reply, dear brother?"

Sherlock thought for a moment, then he said, "Yes, I do." He took the podium. "Mr. Monk told me when I first met him, 'It's a gift and a curse.' I responded that my philosophy is that the majority of people are stupid. Then he offered me a challenge and asked if I considered him the same. After observing him during this case, I came to this conclusion. Adrian Monk is absurd. His logic periodically veers to the ridiculous. For crying out loud, the man is afraid of milk! There is no logic whatsoever in such a fear! His mind is absolutely abnormal, and it's a wonder he can function in society!"

"Sherlock!" John yelled a little louder than he meant to.

"Calm down, John, he just took that as a compliment." John looked over, and Monk nodded. "But . . . he is not stupid. He has an impressive memory. He has his own style, and he noticed a few things even I did not see. I suppose in some ways I could also admire him for his cautiousness. I almost lost myself, but he helped bring me back to my senses. It was certainly refreshing to work with one whose thinking is at least somewhat similar to mine, someone who could figure out what I was thinking so that I did not always have to explain myself. I almost enjoyed working with Adrian Monk. At least, I did not hate it."

There was some more uncertain applause, and they concluded the press conference. Monk had a brief conversation with Mycroft before leaving since he was Sherlock's brother. Monk concluded by saying, "I'm glad to see that you got out of the house."

"He said that like it was an achievement," Mycroft thought aloud as Monk walked away.

"To him, it is," Sherlock told him.

"I thought Americans had higher standards than that."

"I said 'to him,' not 'to Americans.'"

Sherlock and John agreed to see Monk, Natalie, and Molly Evans off at the airport. Of course, everyone wanted to know how the detectives got out of Moriarty's trap, so Monk and Sherlock told them everything on the way. That only brought up more questions.

"How did he know about what happened to Trudy?" Natalie asked. "You didn't say much about her, and you usually talk about Trudy with every second breath."

"Well, I tried to a couple of times, but he always cut me off," Monk answered.

"Still, it's not as much as you normally do."

"I knew he wouldn't be interested."

"Really? Has that stopped you before?"

"Sherlock Holmes is a serious detective. The emotions brought about by marriage would only muddle his thinking. He's never been interested in romance, so I knew he wouldn't wanna be bothered with information of my own affairs."

"How do you know all that?"

"I know the man better than you think."

"Well, that doesn't really answer my question."

Monk tried to explain it to her, but this time Sherlock interrupted. "It's actually quite simple. Obviously, Mr. Monk is married; he's wearing a wedding band. Obviously, he's not married to you because you're not, and you didn't take his name. Every time he mentioned his wife, it was with wistful affection, but as you observed, he did not mention her often, so she was a significant part of his life no longer. Yet Molly Evans is significant to him, or else he wouldn't have risked himself. Therefore, my first deduction was that she was his daughter from an illicit relationship. Yet when Mr. Monk said Molly is his wife's daughter, that changed things. Most people would not risk themselves for children produced by their spouse's illegitimate relationships. Therefore, I revisited his wistful affection and realized that Trudy had died. That is why Mr. Monk risked himself for Molly Evans; losing her would be like losing Trudy all over again."

"What he said," Monk said gesturing to Sherlock. John laughed, and Monk added with a whisper, "Kid's got a future."

"So how did you find out what Molly Hooper did for Sherlock?" John asked.

"That's easy. Sherlock said he owed her. When we first met him, he said, 'I'm working on a case of my own at the moment. I owe my client all my concentration and energy; I am sure you understand.' If you risk yourself for someone you say you owe, what more do you owe them than your own life?" There was silence as the others marveled him for a bit. Then Monk turned to Sherlock. "You see? It doesn't have to be that complicated! That had no science stuff, no techo mumbo-jumbo, and I didn't have to speak at fifty miles an hour to get to my point!"

"But it was so simple!" Sherlock argued. "A child could've figured it out!"

"Your friend didn't, and he's a doctor."

"Oh, well, that's John; that's just the way he is."

They both looked at John who still had his mouth hanging open. "You remembered exactly what he said, word for word, from that long ago? That's extraordinary!"

"It's a gift, and a curse." Monk looked at Sherlock. "That's my story, and I'm sticking to it."

"Well, I understand it more now," Sherlock answered.

"But this also reminds me, I followed your instructions. I helped, but you solved the case."

"I'm curious, when did you consider the case solved?"

"When you knew exactly where they were, when you said, 'He's the guy.'"

"I suspected him before you even got here, so in those terms I solved the case before it even began. But I thought your terms were that the case was solved when you say, 'Here's what happened,' and as I recall you did that."

"I was summarizing the case of Molly Evans, but I let you have the parts regarding Molly Hooper. I thought that was what you wanted."

John cleared his throat. "I think we had a hand in it, too. We kinda just saved the whole British government."

Natalie added, "Yeah, or at least your brother."

"Which, to you, is the same thing."

"Yes, thanks very much," Sherlock said rather flatly. He walked away.

"Told you," John whispered.

Natalie whispered back, "I wouldn't let Mr. Monk get away with that. You gotta get your share."

"Look, I'll mail it to you."

Just as it was time to leave, they all stood in front of security. Sherlock had his hands clasped behind his back, and he stood in front of the senior detective. "Well, Adrian Monk, it's been fun."

"Well, that confirms what I always suspected," Monk answered. "'Fun' has a completely different meaning in England."

Sherlock smiled. "Then let's just say it hasn't been boring."

"That's high praise, believe me," John said.

"We can agree on that," Monk answered. He turned to go, but then turned back. "You should come to San Francisco sometime. If Moriarty really is coming to America, I might need your help. And even if he doesn't, it could be nice to have a little bit more help."

Sherlock smiled again and answered in a very sincere tone, "I would like that." Monk smiled and was about to ask him when he might come, but then Sherlock added in a raspy American accent, "But here's the thing, San Francisco, it's just so . . . over there, you know? It's almost like another country, another continent even."

Natalie and Molly both suppressed a giggle. Monk was not amused. "It's not that funny," he mumbled.

Sherlock put his hand on Monk's shoulder and said in his regular voice, "In all seriousness, dear colleague, I'll think about thinking about it."

"It's a start," Monk said as he reached for a wipe for his shoulder.

"In the meantime, if you ever decide to get out of the Dark Ages, we could occasionally Skype."

"Skype? What is that? It sounds dangerous."

"It's video conferencing," Natalie answered. "Remember, when Linda Fusco—"

"Oh, right. You know, that figured into a murder once."

Sherlock grunted angrily. "Why didn't you tell me that one?"

"Well, I didn't tell you the one I really wanted to tell you, the case that had me stumped for over a decade, see how quickly you solve that one."

"Regarding the death of your wife, I suppose." He looked at Natalie. "Get him a phone! Texting, Internet access, the works."

"I'll see what I can do," Molly answered.

Natalie whispered, "We gotta go."

"Stay on the ground, Reichenbach Hero," Monk said.

"Keep calm and carry on, Captain Cool," Sherlock answered with a salute. Natalie and John traded a simple goodbye, Molly said thank you again, and then they all turned away.

"See? This trip was good for you," Natalie said. "Look at you! What are you smiling about?"

"Just thinking, me and Sherlock Holmes. It's just incredible. Wonder what Dad would think?" Suddenly, he froze, then slowly he turned around. Sherlock was standing in the distance, and he turned back one more time and stared at him. John wasn't sure what was going on, so he shyly waved.

"Adrian? What's the matter?" Molly asked.

Monk shook his head. "Nothing. Never mind. Let's go home."